Author's note: Someone with a Graveyard of Abandoned Fanfics as huge as mine probably shouldn't have started on a project this large. But since that graveyard has since been paved over and covered up with a SHINY NEW COMPLETED FANFIC, I'd say I'm on the right track! Some background: several years ago, somewhere between realizing that the then-current season of Railgun was actually really, really good, reading a (since-vanished) blog post talking about how Kuroko is massively underutilized and could very easily be a much more interesting character than she is with a little effort, and facepalming at the turn for the utterly ludicrous that the Index light novels take after the Kazakiri Hyouka arc, I got the idea that I was going to rewrite the entire Raildexverse from the ground up.

As many of you reading this will know, I got about 5/6 through the first story, In Memoriam, and then abruptly went on a three-and-a-half-year hiatus, during which...well...quite a lot of things happened. In any case, in late 2017 I decided I was going to finish In Memoriam and continue the To Aruverse Rewrite Project, as my co-writer and I had taken to calling it, and over about 3 months of writing we finished that sucker!

...with an epilogue that was pretty much just a blatant sequel tease.

So, point is, this is that sequel. It's based on...well, you can probably figure out which canon arc it's based on.

Same warning as before: When I say "from the ground up", I mean "from the ground up". I wanted this to be recognizable as Railgun/Index, so the setting is more-or-less similar on the broadest scale, many story elements and plot points are at least superficially similar, and the names on the cast list are the same, with a few exceptions. But character personalities, motivations and histories may or may not have been shifted drastically. Details of the setting may be mostly similar or entirely different. Make no assumptions based on canon! If you do I will make loud pterodactyl-like screeches and sic my cat on you, and her claws are very sharp.

Oh, and it goes without saying that even if, no, especially if you're a hardcore To Aru fan, you should probably read In Memoriam first. Otherwise you're going to be very confused.

So without further ado, please enjoy A Thousand Shattered Mirrors!

Night in Academy City: the hunter stalks, and the prey flees.

The prey weaves a twisted path through the rain-soaked streets, through every dark crevice and forgotten corner of the city that has been its entire world for most of its too-short life. Spontaneously, it takes a sharp turn into a narrow, graffiti-stained alleyway, hoping in vain to throw the hunter off the trail for even a few precious seconds. The prey knows this will not delay the hunter for long—the prey can feel the hunter's presence every so often, watching, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

But nonetheless, the prey flees. For the prey has looked into the eyes of the hunter, and seen nothing—no hate, no fury, no malice—nothing but the cold, unflinching desire to hunt, to kill. The prey saw this, and on that day the prey knew fear.

The prey knows this city better than most, but is running short on options—too many open spaces nearby, not enough places to hide. It finds the exit to the alleyway, and makes a short, desperate dash to an abandoned school across the street, slamming through the ancient fire doors, hoping that the few precious moments of concealment will make up for the noise. The prey has power, true, power enough to defend against the hunter for a time. But the prey knows that it will not bring salvation forever, for the hunter has power as well, unimaginable power, and will not hesitate to use it.

The prey knows time is short; it quietly makes its way to a classroom's long-shattered window, slips through it and quietly dashes for a storm drain's outlet, the hunter's soft footsteps never far away. The hunter will force a confrontation soon, and it will end the same way it always has. The same way it always must.

The prey has used this storm drain as an escape route before; it knows the hunter will not be dissuaded from following, even in the slowly-intensifying rain. As it trudges through a river of filthy urban water, it hears splashes from not far behind, and growing closer, an echo of its own footsteps.

The prey turns a corner and stops, out of breath, out of energy, out of time. Better to make a stand here, while it still has strength left to defend itself. It steels itself, knowing it cannot afford to show mercy now, that the briefest instant of weakness could be fatal.

Around the corner comes...not the hunter, not yet. Instead, a swarm of tiny, silvery discs float lazily through the air, moving up and down, side to side, as if searching for something...as if searching for the prey. Weapons of some kind? Tools of the hunter, certainly. One buzzes near the prey's ear, and without thinking, the prey reaches out with its power and swats it away.

The reaction is immediate—blindingly bright arcs of plasma suddenly crisscross the tunnel, and it is all the prey can do to leap forward, towards the turn in the tunnel, towards where the hunter must be.

And then the prey comes face to face with the hunter.

Shiny black milspec AR glasses. A Howa Type 41 Gauss carbine, power pack removed for obvious reasons. The hunter's hair, clothes, makeup, even some facial features change from encounter to encounter, but the blank expression, mouth pressed into a thin, determined line, never changes.

The hunter raises the rifle.

The prey takes one step forward.

The hunter disintegrates, unimaginable forces twisting and tearing her adolescent features into a mist of blood and gore.

The prey stares down at the atrocity he has wrought, and feels no joy, no comfort, no pride. Not even horror, any more, and that worries him perhaps the most of all. For he knows the hunter will return the next day, and the next, and the next, until she claims her prize. And she is learning.

One patch of the hunter's skin remains intact, a small chunk of the left side of her torso the prey knows to leave alone, if only to track how many times he has killed her. It displays a tattoo in simple black lettering:

RN-582